Once Again
by Tasherie
Summary: J/I Jack's goal is to bring Irina back into CIA custody, but what will happen when the daughter he never knew walks into his life? CHAPTER 7 IS UP! Jack remembers his life with both of the women he loved...
1. Waking Up

Once Again **Chapter 1: Waking Up**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance/Action/Adventure with a little Angst thrown in for good measure.  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.

_Jack felt the cold bite of steel against his wrists, the cruel twist of his shoulders against unbending metal and instantly knew he had been captured. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly to clear the last dregs of unconsciousness from them. The room was cold and the bright light harsh against the block walls. Instinctively he pulled against the bonds that held his wrists but they held fast._

When he heard the sound of a door clanging in the distance, he closed his eyelids, so that he could see but his eyes appeared closed. It was an old trick, trying to appear unconscious, that would only fool the most inexperienced enemy, but it was the only weapon he had at the moment.

Through his slitted eyelids, he saw a woman enter the room. Despite all his training, his eyelids flew open and he uttered one word, regretting it as he spoke. "Laura?" 

She smiled coolly, her eyes mocking him. "Ah, Jack, we meet again. How is **our** daughter, by the way?"

He had to press his lips closed so he wouldn't speak, but looked her in the eye, as if daring her to continue.

"I had begun to wonder if you would ever step into my trap. Then again, you always did take your time…with everything." Somehow, she managed to make the statement sensual and Jack had to force himself to look at her blankly.

She took two steps towards him and slipped behind the chair he was cuffed to. He could smell her, she was that close, and feel her hair brush against his neck. Running her hands over his shoulders, she whispered in his ear, "You're so tense, Jack." He didn't even breathe as he felt her hands move down his arms and a key scratched against the cuffs.

The moment he felt them loosen, his instincts took over. Jack flipped the chair over and slammed her body to the wall, neatly pinning her hands above her with one hand. He reached behind her and took the gun from where it was tucked, against her back. 

"Did you really think I wouldn't try to escape?" He asked, almost disbelieving.

She laughed, a breathy sound, and looked up at him. "Of all the things I am, I'm not stupid, Jack." 

He had forgotten how well she could avoid a question and anger flooded him. With his hand still holding her wrists and his body pressed so close against hers, he could feel every curve, Jack raised the gun to her head. 

"Shoot to kill?" Her voice was mocking. 

"You don't think I will? Of all the things you are, you're not stupid, Irina." He echoed her words of a minute ago and wasn't surprised when she smiled.

"Touché. But I know you, Jack. You can't kill me." This time she was serious.

And as he told himself to pull the trigger, he discovered she was right. Hating himself, he moved away from her. He still pointed the gun at her head, somewhat uselessly, since she knew his threats were empty. Yet, she didn't move. Irina stood against the wall, watching him back away, an expression he couldn't place in her eyes.

He woke from the dream with a start and as he remembered, cursed himself. The string of Russian floated into the still air of his bedroom. Wondering why he always cursed in Russian when he was furious, Jack forced himself not to think that Russian was her language.

Irina Derevko, who he had dreamed of nightly since he had met Elsa Caplan. Maybe because the story reminded him so much of Irina and himself or maybe because the ending was so different, he had dreamed of Irina since that day two weeks ago when he had found out about Elsa. It was always the same dream and he hated himself more every time woke up.

He, an experienced spy, the Director of Operations, for God's sake, could not terminate the life of one woman. One woman who threatened his country and the whole world. Telling himself it was a dream and that even he couldn't control it, Jack pushed his tangled mass of blankets away and lifted himself from the bed. He pushed his morbid thoughts away, not forever, but for the moment.

So, what did you think? If you like it, hate it, whatever, please review. I'm really interested in what you think, since this is my first Alias fic. Tasha


	2. Ties

Chapter 2 **Ties**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** This chapter is definitely Romance and Angst. The Action/Adventure will come in the next 2-3 chapters.  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.  


Jack got out of bed, flexing his arms to release the tension. He hated waking up and feeling stiff, like an old man. It was the stiffness afterwards that gave away his age. Last night he had tricked himself into thinking his body was strong, as strong as it had been. Now, feeling the tenderness in his joints and the stiffness of his muscles that hadn't plagued him 10 years ago, he despised his body. He knew he wasn't an old man, with all of the connotations that expression had, and that his mind was still one of the best, but the slow weakening of his frame tweaked at his confidence.

That thought bothered him and as he walked into his bathroom, he pulled off his dark grey t-shirt. Jack stood in front of the mirror. He studied his torso, looking for even an ounce of spare flesh or weakening muscle. He hadn't expected to find any and he didn't. It wasn't that, he told himself. As a spy, he had to be confident. Confidence was what enabled the people in his world to perform almost superhuman feats and live. That was why thoughts of getting old unnerved him. 

As Jack pulled off his loose black pants and boxers, he looked at himself in the mirror. Here he was, standing in the bathroom in his empty house, telling himself how good he looked. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all and stepped into the shower. He showered leisurely and dressed carefully in a dark suit.

As he tied his tie, he could almost see Laura standing in front of him, asking if he needed help. Despite himself, he could see her, as she had been every morning during their marriage, dressed only in a white housecoat and with slightly mussed hair. Some days, they would spend 10 minutes while she attempted to tie his tie. Usually so dextrous, her hands would fumble as he whispered words of love in her ear and she would lean into him, plastering her lower half to his. If he was in a hurry, he would kiss her gently and put her away from him but sometimes he could get lost in the sensations of loving her. Her soft lips, her voice as she moaned and the smell of her skin had entranced him, had never stopped entrancing him.

Coming out of his reverie, he exhaled heavily. He focused his thoughts away but felt more longing than anger. Those people he had remembered didn't exist anymore. That man wasn't who he was now, no more than Laura Bristow was the same person as Irina Derevko. He had changed and so had she, he told himself as he went back to tying his tie. 

**Author's Note: **I know this chapter wasn't very exciting and I promise the next couple will be a lot better, but I just felt that I had to get this stuff out there. It will make for a better story.

Thank you SO much, those people who reviewed. It was a huge confidence boost to me. If you like or hate what I'm doing, just REVIEW! Please! I do like constructive criticism but if you like it tell me. Tasha


	3. Contacts

Chapter 3 **Contacts**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance/Action/Adventure but this chapter is kind of General spy-like jabber.  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.  


His colleagues sometimes said it seemed like he was always at work. They were joking, but Jack sometimes felt like that too. He always seemed to arrive early and leave late. Most of the younger agents who still had a healthy fear of the venerable Jack Bristow thought it was because he was so dedicated to the job. Those who knew him well realized that he stayed at work because there was nothing for him at home.

The CIA Operations Centre was fairly empty when he arrived. The traffic on the freeway had been pretty light, even for Los Angeles and so his mood was good. When a young agent waved to him, he actually nodded to her. When her eyes widened in surprise, Jack had to hide his smile. His reputation at the agency was pretty fearsome and yet still young women still waved at him in the mornings. Girls, really, so green that they probably hadn't even thought of killing someone on orders or of destruction and waste so immense that it made you sick. All the things that had been parts of his life for so long that he couldn't remember when they hadn't been. Things that he would deal with today and tomorrow and probably for the rest of his days. 

The encoded e-mail that he had opened after logging onto his computer certainly fit into that category. Jack had five main contacts stationed throughout the world. These were senior agents placed in deep cover who reported to him, and only him. All other agents he directed were sent through standard CIA channels, with all new intel going directly to the decoding section and then being passed to Jack. The five, however, sent all information directly to Jack, routed through a secure server. He made contact with them himself, discreetly. Although these agents were CIA, their covers were so elaborate and the intel they gathered so vital, they could not risk being exposed. None of them knew of each other and only Jack and a few high-placed officials at Langley knew who they were or what their covers were.

Jack had a specific, exact code with each agent. Any variations would result in immediate discontinuation of contact. The e-mail he had received the night before was heavily coded but Jack understood it as easily as he had the morning newspaper. He knew the code so well it was almost second nature. 

NEW INTEL USUAL CONTACT POINT

CLIMBER

Richard Avellar, code named Climber, had been an agent for 30 years. He was a model agent and could have done exceptionally well at one of the main branches of the agency. He had chosen to take deep cover missions, those that required to agent to take on one persona for many years. To establish themselves in a position and to gain the trust of enemies of the United States of America. To report back to the CIA and sabotage the efforts of these enemies. It was something Jack had a hard time asking of someone. Perhaps it was his history that made him wonder how people could become another person for such a great part of their life and then instantly abandon it when they were no longer needed in that position.

Richard had chosen this life, ostensibly because he wanted to be on the front line all the time. Jack had always thought it was because Richard had not had much of a life himself. His American mother and Brazilian father had never welcomed him. At school, he had faded into the background and Richard had become someone who saw others' lives and wished for them. Richard and Jack had been friends in training at Langley. Two diametrically opposite people whose paths had joined and then veered. Richard's had moved to deep cover ops and Jack's, well, in time, he had "left" the CIA.

When Arvin Sloane had asked him to join his organization, Jack had been thrown. Sloane had promised Jack power and the kind of satisfaction that couldn't be had with the government. To Jack, it never occurred to him not to tell the CIA what was going on. It was then he was asked to become a double. The kind of agent Jack had never considered being, the kind of challenge he relished. Jack Bristow had grasped the opportunity. He had made the apparently difficult transition from CIA to SD-6. Not something hard when the CIA knew what was going on. The trick was to make it appear as if they did not.

During the year of transition and afterwards, the only responsibilities he kept at the CIA were the five deep cover agents. One after the other, he had them placed as Alliance moles. Jack had started to use the intel they gave him to take down the Alliance, from the inside.

In the six months, he had moved Richard from the Alliance to a position with a weapons dealer and crime boss stationed in Brazil named Hugo de Gama. When Sloane's independent activities became clear, it was realized that Richard's mark had previously been a contact of former associates of Sloane's.

Jack entertained the possibility that this new intel was about Arvin Sloane, but dismissed it. Sloane did not often use old contacts, even those of colleagues, and the chance that de Gama was one of his arms dealers was slight. Jack prided himself on being realistic. Luck was not something that entered into his thoughts normally. There was no room for hoping in a profession where dying on missions was common. Facts were the only things Jack allowed to influence his judgement but nonetheless, if de Gama turned out to be Sloane's weapons dealer, it would be a complete coincidence. A wonderful coincidence but nothing more.

Richard had been put in place to allow the CIA a window into the weapons trade in South America, an area they recently had become concerned over. Lately, Jack had simply been relaying Richard's intel to the task force leader of that division but new intel warranted his investigation. 

The usual contact point was a phone call, on a secure cell phone, made exactly 24 hours after the time the e-mail was sent. If no contact was made, Richard waited 24 hours again and called once more. This procedure was repeated until contact was made. It was simple but it had worked well to date and was kept. Jack looked at the time on the e-mail. 4:53 pm, Los Angeles time. It was only 7:00 am now, earlier then he had thought.

With a strange sense of impatience, Jack got up to get a cup of coffee before starting to read the rest of his e-mails. Pointless e-mails had started to compound in his account recently. A shame, he thought as he poured the coffee one of the secretaries had started. Adding sugar, he stirred it absently and watched a few men file into the building. They probably had an overabundance of e-mails too. Starting early to wade through the mass of electronic slog. At the bit of humour, Jack smiled to himself and sipped the hot coffee.

**Author's Note:** I know! I know! This chapter and the one before it have been boring. I am sorry but don't abandon this poor fic because of it. We need you! The next chapter will have some more characters, other then just Jack and his thoughts. I would like to thank those of you who review. If you read the story, please review, even if it is just a line or two. I would really like to know who is reading this. Also, for those of you who are into the details, I have made up a lot about Jack's job at the CIA and the transition to SD-6. I have seen almost all episodes and can't remember learning any of the details but if you guys find any discrepancies with the show, let me know. Thanks, Tasha. 


	4. Shuttered

Chapter 4 **Shuttered**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance/Action/Adventure with a little Angst thrown in for good measure.  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.

  
  
Jack still had half a cup of coffee left when he saw Sydney enter the building. She was walking beside Michael Vaughn, her face glowing. They weren't touching, not quite, but occasionally Sydney would sway towards him and he would stop himself from reaching out to her. As much as Jack had once disliked their relationship, he could see her happiness in her eyes. Eyes that at that moment, caught his and shuttered instantly. Even from 20 feet away, Jack saw his daughter tense at the sight of him and watched as she turned her cold eyes from him. He had to will the pain away, the pain no father ever wants to feel. The pain that comes of knowing your daughter hates you and knowing you caused it.

~*Flashback*~

_She took a while to answer the phone, it had been 7 rings and he was on the verge of hanging up. That was why when she answered, he had to think for a second. He had to take a moment to think about the carefully rehearsed words he had been practising ever since she left the office a few hours before._

"Sydney. It's…"

"Hello. Can I help you?" Her voice was slightly tight and sharp. She sounded hurried, like a doctor's secretary or a teenage sales clerk.

"I…I need to meet with you, Sydney. Tonight…if that's possible." He spoke slowly, carefully as if his tongue wouldn't quite shape the phrase he wanted. When he heard silence at the end of the line, only punctuated by one soft intake of breath and the faint hum of voices in the background, Jack felt his chance slipping away.

"Okay." She sounded almost as surprised as he was.

"The Raller Street Pier in forty-five minutes." The stumble was gone from his voice and Jack was back in control. Back in control and telling himself that the feeling in his stomach wasn't fear.

Forty-five minutes later, he had a harder time convincing himself. Jack had been waiting for five minutes in the darkness. It was a warm evening and the sounds of traffic from the freeway and the crash of the ocean against the pier were the only sounds. His back was to the road but his ears picked up the sound of Sydney's SUV at the same time the reflection of her headlights appeared in the water ahead of him. It was only when he heard her car door slam that he turned towards her.

Neither of them spoke, not when Sydney looked up and caught his eye, not when she took the few steps to stand beside him, not even when she came and rested her arms against the wooden railing he leaned against.

Jack watched as she opened her mouth and closed it again, grasping for the words.

"Do you understand how much this means to me?" Her voice quavered with emotion.

Jack didn't have to ask what she meant. "Of course I do. Of all people, I can understand how much you hate Sloane and Derevko."

"Why didn't you back me when I went to Russia, then? It was the one solid lead we had. You say you understand we need to get Sloane and Derevko, but you don't back it up. Elsa Caplan's intel was good, I knew that. But you let your stupid grudge against Mom…Derevko cloud your judgement. You tell me not to get emotionally attached! You tell me! You're the biggest hypocrite I've ever met. And as much as that is a major problem, it's not even the issue here. You let your feelings screw up my op. We could have got them but you didn't authorize it! And then you have the nerve, the gall, to think you can tell me if I do something like this again, you'll take me off the team. Well, I'm sure as hell not going to let your -whatever they are- stand in the way. You say you want to take them down. Then do your job!" The words flew out of her mouth, harsh and biting and when she spit the final word at Jack, she spun on her heel.

Before she could even take a step forward, Jack had grabbed her arm, pulled her back while he barked out one sharp word. "Stop!"

When she felt his hand grab her, instinct took over and she flipped him off her, hard against the rail. Jack stood there, stunned for a moment but quickly recovered.

"Don't walk away from me, Sydney." His voice was rough.

"That's rich. Don't walk away from you! That's all you've been doing to me for the past 30 years. So, I'm giving you just as much time as you've shown me."

"As much as that appears to be a major problem, it's not the issue here. I called you here to…"

Sydney realized that he was echoing her own words from a minute before and annoyance flooded her. "What, what did you call me here for, Dad?" she spoke the term with scorn.

"I called you here tonight to…talk about what I said today. You are my daughter, but that does not give you free rein at the CIA. You were wrong to act independently in Russia. What I said was true. If you ever do anything like this again, you will be removed from the task force. I am trying to protect you. I know you think I am biased on this issue, but so are you, Sydney. It just happens that with this bias comes knowledge of Derevko and Sloane. If you think I was harsh that's fine, but I am not going to let you get yourself killed." Now that he had started, the words spilled out, almost an apology, as foreign to him as Latin, but as necessary as air.

"I am only trying to do my job and I didn't believe Elsa Caplan could be trusted. Maybe I am erring on the side of caution, MAYBE! But I will not sacrifice the lives of my agents to test that theory."

"Don't think I am going to apologize for disobeying your orders. I would do anything to get them. If you think I'm being reckless, that's your prerogative, but don't expect I will respond to what ever guilt trip you think you can lay on me."

Her eyes still flashed fire and Jack sighed heavily. "This is pointless. Go home, Sydney."

"You think so? Whenever things get difficult, you always walk away. Well, keep doing it Dad. Maybe someday, you'll reach a point where you can't walk anymore."

He turned away and heard her footsteps walk to the car, heard the car door slam and the engine turn over. He listened as his daughter drove away.

He got into his car, a nondescript black sedan that he had driven for the past year and drove away from the pier, not angry, but bitter.

~*End flashback*~

Jack came back to the present sharply as the bitter taste of bile rose in his throat. Since that night two weeks ago, he hadn't talked to Sydney, except during task force meeting. She would look over at him and her eyes would shutter out any emotion.

Irina has always acted like this. When she was angry, she was like ice. She would give the object of her rage cold, black looks. She would never speak unless she had to, not revealing anything. Sydney, on the other hand was like fire when she was angry. Her emotions, her temper, would spill over and she would yell and bluster. In his eyes, Sydney's usual fire was preferable to this icy coldness modelled after her mother. Fire burned out quickly, but ice, it had to be slowly dethawed.

It as then he looked up to see Agent Vaughn at his office doorway. His hand was raised, as if to knock.

"Agent Vaughn." Lowering his fist, Vaughn came into the room.

"Director Bristow." He looked Jack in the eye when he addressed him, challenging the older man.

"Is there something you want?" Jack's voice was brusque, but not unkind, as he looked back unflinchingly.

"Sydney didn't ask me to come, but I thought I should. This fight you're having is hurting her, more than she will admit. She needs you to come to her, and I know you're probably not willing, but I thought…"

Jack cut Vaughn off mid-sentence, "I don't think you need to say anything else. I don't believe this is your business. You are showing nerve to come talk to me, and I respect you for it, but you would be wise to concentrate on your own performance instead of my relationship with my daughter."

"Jack…"

"I think you should leave, Agent Vaughn, before you cross the line between being bold and being insubordinate."

Seeing the look in Jack's eyes, so like the one he had seen in Syd's this morning, Vaughn turned and left the office.

  
  
**Author's Note:** It would mean a lot if anyone who is reading this could review! PLEASE! I would update a a lot quicker, because I know I've been slow. I've tried to do a lot better with this chapter and have some real dialogue, so let me know what you think of. I've had a little change of plans, so the next few chapters will be more Syd/Jack encounters I think, and then there will be a major plot twist! Tasha 


	5. Mystery

Chapter 5 **Mystery**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance/Action/Adventure  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.  
**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been so long since I updated. A major case of writer's block, two trips out-of-town without Internet access, and then my shock from the season finale have left me with not much to write. I hope you guys like this chapter and forgive me for not updating forever.  


Barely five minutes after Agent Vaughn had left his office, Jack was interrupted again by a knock on his office door.

"Come in," his voice was commanding.

"Director Bristow, London has just contacted us. An enemy agent walked into the American embassy yesterday." His secretary's soft voice carried from the doorway.

Annoyance visible on his face, Jack raised his eyebrows at the young woman. "How is this relevant to me?"

"But…Mr. Bristow…" she spoke hesitantly now.

"Christy, can you not see I am busy?"

From her expression, he saw she didn't. "Mr. Bristow, she says she will only talk to you. They've transferred her to the holding cells in this building."

Jack kept his usual poker face, but mentally his brain began to calculate. "Who exactly is this person?"

"She won't give us a name, but says she is prepared to make a full report if you talk to her."

"What exactly do we know about this agent?" Jack asked wearily.

"London performed a face recognition check and I have the results…ah, I had the results. Just one second, I think I left what they sent on my desk. Sorry," she laughed.

Christy hurried out of the office, blonde ponytail swinging. Jack wondered, idly, how someone so intelligent saw the need to act like she had left her brain at home. Christy Harrow had an IQ of 136 and above-average skills in almost all areas. All of her test results had been forwarded to him following her hiring. Yet, she seemed to live up to her cliched reputation as a blonde. She came back into the room before Jack could begin to reflect on her career choice.

"Here you are, Mr. Bristow. If you don't need anything else, I'll be going." Her gaze told him exactly what she was offering. Toying with the idea of telling her that he was not interested in anything she had to offer, he waved her away. While Christy was a very pretty girl, Jack had no respect for any woman who tried to hide her intelligence, much less desire for any relationship.

He reached for the folder and opened it, any thoughts of amorous secretaries leaving his mind. His gaze flicked over the picture and he froze.

"Angela?" He spoke the name out loud, in a low, amazed tone. Jack forced himself to look back at the clear, colour photo that was situated at the top of the report. It wasn't until he let his breath out in a whoosh that he realized he had been holding it.

The woman in the picture wasn't Angela. She looked like her, yes. She had the same light blonde hair, the same cool grey eyes and the same diamond-shaped face. But this woman's nose was wider, more turned-up and her cheekbones more prominent, perhaps because she was thin. Logically, this woman could not be Angela, simply because Angela would be in her 50's and this woman, as haggard as she looked, could only be in her late thirties. With each glance at the picture, he realized that the agent had only a passing resemblance to Angela Gregory. He pushed the thought aside, dismissing it.

Jack read the single sheet of paper that accompanied the photo. The face recognition program had not provided a real name, only several aliases. Clara Danner-Mitchell, Simone Remillard and Giovanna de Marco had proved not to exist, although that did not surprise Jack. If this agent had refused to tell the CIA her name, it meant that she had no records.

"Jesus, were the agents that debriefed her rookies or just incompetent?" he asked himself aloud. Right now, the CIA did not even know her name, let alone her reasons for turning herself in or where her loyalties lay.

It was intriguing, he thought, as he stood up and left the office. Jack walked briskly through the Ops Centre and down to subfloor 5, where the prisoner was being held.

Holding up his badge, Jack spoke to the security guard. "I would like to have access to the detainee that was sent here yesterday from London."

"Certainly, Director Bristow," the young agent pressed several codes and the steel door in front of them swung forward with a grinding sound. "Go ahead. Her's is the first cell on the right."

Jack nodded brusquely to the agent and walked under the opened door, hearing it clang shut behind him. He walked down the narrow corridor, the only sound that of his footsteps and tried not to remember how many times he had walked down these halls when Irina had been a prisoner here. He almost expected to see her waiting in the cell. He almost wanted her to be.

Instead of Irina Derevko in the glass cell, he saw a thin blonde woman, facing toward the wall. She was lying stretched out on her steel bed, motionless. He watched her turn and saw her eyelids lift, revealing emotionless grey pupils. She moved into a sitting position and off the bed as if it was the ultimate effort. The woman walked toward the glass, slowly, never breaking eye contact with Jack.

"Director Bristow," she stated. Jack was strangely unnerved by the stare she gave him. He was used to expressionless faces, eyes that gave nothing away but this woman seemed to be strangely emotionless, rather than very good at hiding them.

"Don't you recognize me?" she asked slowly, painstakingly.

Jack gave her his iciest glare. "I don't have time to play games. You can either tell me everything you know or you can rot in here for the rest of your life. It's your choice."

The woman's face twisted into what might have been called a smile, except for the emptiness of her eyes. "But Jack, I'm your daughter."

  
  
**Author's Note: **I know the story has been in need of a major plot twist, so there you go. The next chapter will follow closely on the heels of this one, because it would just be cruel to leave you guys hanging like this. As always, reviews are really appreciated. 


	6. Manipulation

Chapter 6 **Manipulation**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Angst, for this chapter  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.  


Jack stood there for a minute. He looked at the woman in the cell in disbelief, before his eyes hardened and he turned his head from her. "I do not have the time or the inclination to listen to your lies." His voice was harsh and cold.

"They're not lies," the woman said, in an odd light voice. "Angela Gregory was my mother."

Her face crippled into a grimace as she let out a laugh that was more like a shriek.

"If you have information about the organization you work for, than by all means enlighten me. Otherwise, stop wasting my time with these lies." Jack maintained his icy tone, despite the racing of his mind. 

"Would you like to know my name? Are you interested in what Angela named me? Do you think you can guess? Hmm?" she asked.

Jack turned and began to walk away, no longer caring about the information she had to give him.

"My name is Deirdre Gregory and I work for Irina Derevko." Her voice floated down the hall after him.

He ducked under the opening gates, ignoring the agent at the security post. Jack stepped into the elevator as it arrived at the floor, thankful it was empty. He pressed his floor and sank back against the mirrored walls as the doors closed. He watched himself in the mirror as he exhaled heavily and then inhaled again. Jack felt like he was watching a stranger. The man in the mirror had a shocked face, fisted hands and cold eyes.

The elevator came to a halt and his stomach flipped. Jack suddenly felt sick and his stomach roiled, rebelling against the black coffee and bagel he had eaten this morning. He made it across the office to the washroom in record time. He only had time to throw open the door to the first stall before his breakfast came up. He threw up, emptying his stomach into the toilet. Even after he had divulged all of the contents of his stomach, he continued to gag for a moment, until he could force his nauseous stomach to calm. 

Jack stayed hunched over for a moment, his eyes closed and his hands braced on his thighs. After taking three deep breaths, he stood up, flushed the toilet and pushed the stall door open. At the white porcelain sink, he washed out his mouth with the cold tap water. Jack straightened and adjusted his tie and jacket.

Jack walked quickly back to his office, ignoring a call from Marshall and from Christy. Once he was sitting down at his desk, he allowed his thoughts to return to this woman who claimed to be his daughter and to Angela.  


~*FLASHBACK*~

_"Jack, I have something to tell you." Angie grabbed his hand as she spoke and pulled him down to kiss her._

"So do I, Angie." Jack kissed her lips sweetly and sat down on the grass beside her, pulling her lithe body into his lap. Angie giggled and teasingly pulled away. With a strange look, Jack let her move away from him. She didn't notice and after a little more squirming, finally settled into a comfortable position.

"You go first, Jack." Angie looked up at him expectantly.

"Angie, my Dad is moving to Los Angeles. He wants me to go with him." Jack blurted the statement out, hurrying the words.

"What are you talking about?" Her tone was one of disbelief and she pushed away from him, moving off his lap.

"Just what I said, Angie. We're leaving at the end of June, when school is over. I'm sorry, Ang. I don't want to go. I don't have a choice. My Dad just told me yesterday." 

"Jack, why are you leaving?" By this time, Angie was scrambling up and pushing away his half-hearted attempts to touch her.

"Dad got this job at this great company. It's what he always wanted and its in Los Angeles, you know he's always wanted to go back there. You know what he's been like since Mom left, I have to go with him." Jack sounded apologetic, but firm and he could see from Angie's face she knew that he wasn't going to bend.

"What about you, Jack?" she asked, almost to herself. "Just…I need to leave. I can't be here right now." Her voice was tearful and she wiped furiously at her cheeks.

"I still love you, Angie," he ventured hesitantly. "I want to stay, but I just can't." 

"I know, I know. I understand, Jack." Her voice wavered and she continued to face away from him.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Jack asked gently.

"It doesn't matter now." Angie started to walk away, and he didn't try to stop her.

~*END FLASHBACK*~

Jack remembered the day so clearly, it could have been yesterday. He had been 17, and Angie Gregory had been his girlfriend. They had been friends since grade 2 and lived only two doors away from each other, on a quiet street in London, Ontario.

Their relationship had been immature, but idyllic. When Daniel Bristow had found the job he had longed for all his life, in a leading edge Los Angeles hospital, Jack had moved with him. Angie hadn't understood why he wanted to go. She hadn't understood that Jack couldn't push his father away, scarcely a year after his mother had. He and Angie had broken up after that day he remembered, in the park, and he had moved to LA, a city so different from the quiet Canadian one he had grown up in.

Jack didn't know what had happened to Angie. He had never returned to London, instead he had been recruited to the CIA at age 18. After being recruited, the excitement of his first missions and the rigours of training had replaced the quietly beautiful girl he had loved in high school. Angie had always been sweet, serious, gentle and compassionate. Sweet, but…forgettable. The only thing word that came to his mind was forgettable. He had forgotten her until now, until he saw the picture of this agent and until she told him she was his daughter.

Rationally, now that his anger had passed, he knew how easy it would have been to research his link to Angela Gregory and to create a story based around her, in order to gain his trust. Jack made a quick decision to delegate her case to another agent, but make it clear she wasn't a priority. Whoever she worked for would get the message that he would not play games.

She had said she worked for Irina Derevko. Jack knew it was a lie, because Irina would never send an agent in to the CIA with the intent to trick him. She had better ways of manipulating him.  


**Author's Note:** So, what did you think? I hope you guys are liking this story. I will be into more regular updates, since I just finished a major music exam that was seriously stressing me. Anyway, I hope you will click on that little bluey-purple button at the bottom of your screen and review my fic. Thanks, Tasha. 


	7. Love

Chapter 7 **Love**  
**Title:** Once Again  
**Author:** Tasha  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance and Angst  
**Summary:** J/I Takes place after Endgame  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Alias and am not making any money from this fic.  


~ *FLASHBACK*~

_"Do you want some popcorn?" Jack whispered._

"No, it's fine. I don't want out to miss the show. Just…stay here." He heard Angie shift in her seat and felt her blonde head come to rest on his shoulder.

Jack thought about what his friend Drew had told him. Drew was a year older and had more experience with girls. Following his friend's advice, Jack shifted and stretched, trying to surreptitiously place his arm around her shoulders. He managed to wrap his arm around her and move as close to her as the cinema seats would allow.

"Jack?" Angie's voice was muffled by his shirt.

"Shh, we'll get booted out if we talk much more." Looking cautiously around, Jack saw most of the other theatregoers were involved, in each other.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you, Jack Bristow." Then she sighed and looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"I…uh…I love…uh…you too." The words stumbled out ungraciously, but by her sweet smile, Jack could see Angie knew he meant it.

"We'd better watch the show," he replied hesitantly.

~*END FLASHBACK*~

He had always known that he and Angie had not belonged together. She was sweet and he had loved her, but her life was dry. He had always wanted more.

As a kid Jack remembered going up to stay with his grandparents in Oshawa, Ontario and hearing about a place called Camp X. He and his friends had ridden their bicycles up to the shore of Lake Ontario and had clambered over the old barbed wire. The camp was still a secret in the 50's but one of his friend's parents had spilled the secret one night.

Camp X had been an espionage training facility for the Allies during WWII and a communications centre. While Jack's friends had run all over, peering in broken windows and pretending to shoot each other, he had stood still for a minute. It had been then, when 10 year old Jack, who had still been called Jonathan, decided he wanted to do something real with his life.

He hadn't thought of the CIA, he hadn't even lived in the United States, but his father and mother had both been American and so he had dual citizenship. So, for the next 8 years he had studied hard and soaked up as much information as he could. It was near his eighteenth birthday that a CIA recruiter had approached him in LA, where he was living with his dad. It hadn't taken his long to decide to join the CIA and he hadn't looked back. The path had been right for him, he knew that, and had led him to Laura.

~*FLASHBACK*~

_Jack rested his head in his hands and sighed heavily. "Laura, how important is this essay?"_

"You don't have to help me, Jack," she replied defensively. "Don't be silly. You'll never finish if you don't have my help."

She swatted his forearm playfully, "You know it is partially your fault."

Jack gave her a disbelieving glare from where he was slumped on the table. "And, how, pray tell is that?"

"You kept me up all last night."

"Oh, and you weren't a willing participant, I suppose?" he asked.

"Just a helpless victim in your evil conspiracy…" trailing off into laughter, Laura tried to force her face into a stern expression, with little success. She fell into Jack's lap in gales of laughter and he began laughing too.

"…Forced to comply with every whim…" she could barely get her words out in between laughs.

"Laura, you have had far too little sleep and far too much coffee for one day. We should get to bed."

"Yeah, we should." Laura said, her laughter having stopped. Serious now, she reached up and placed one hand on his right cheek.

"Jack, can I tell you something?" She looked straight into his eyes.

"Laura, you're scaring me. What is it?" Jack reached up and placed his hand over hers.

"No," she laughed breathlessly, "Jack, I love you."

They both leaned together, just so their lips touched, once. Jack moved back slightly, "I love you, too."

~*END FLASHBACK*~

Hindsight is 20/20, or so they say. He had thought Laura was right for him. He had thought they would spend the rest of their lives together, but she didn't exist anymore.

Lately, it seemed morbid thoughts were the order of the day. Sydney would have told him to go see Barnett. Somehow, he had never put much faith in shrinks, although the CIA seemed to think they were the answer to every problem, from hangnails to depression. What would Barnett tell him today, he wondered. That he was still in…

"Director Bristow?" Christy's voice intruded in his thoughts.

"Yes?" His tone was no less curt than usual.

"Agent Roberts wanted to know if you would like to go to lunch with him and a few others."

"Fine. Tell him I will meet him downstairs in," Jack looked down at his watch, "Twenty minutes."

Anything would be better than sitting here alone in his office, thinking about what he could never have again.  
  


**Author's Note: **I hope you liked this chapter, because I liked writing it. Please review, Tasha. 


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